


mutual admiration society

by GoddessEris00



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessEris00/pseuds/GoddessEris00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you can write, but can't say, and what needs no words at all. Positive feedback has many benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mutual admiration society

One year, it was nothing but socks and scarves, multi-colored and imperfect. Another Christmas everyone received fragile glass ornaments, found at a bazaar and shaped like butterflies and flowers and things that had nothing to do with the season. The point was, that Danny was used to the types of gifts his mother doled out every year; gifts that had some kind of deep meaning on her end, but left the receiver a little confused the first few times. So when on his birthday, alone for the moment in his shitty apartment in Hawaii, he opened up her gift to discover a stationary set, it didn't even phase him.

It was massive; hundreds of sheets of pastel pages, dozens of cards--some for specific occasions but most were blank inside--and several sizes of envelopes. The gift was more suited to Grace, or to his sisters, or really to any girl (hey, he was a politically correct guy, but come on, most of the cards were sporting images of teddy bears and garden scenes). But because he was used to this and also because he wasn't an idiot, Danny pulled out one of the cards and a matching envelope, and wrote out an effusive note of thanks to his mother. The set he stuck in a random cabinet in the kitchen, next to the juicer he never used and in front of a mostly full bottle of very cheap, not very good whiskey.

He would stop and mail the card on his way to work today, he figured, and not think about the stationary box again until Christmas rolled around.

*~*~*

"Goddamnit!" snarled Danny as he slammed into his apartment. He was favoring his bad leg and had just had what felt like ten years taken off his life, both thanks to his least favorite Navy SEAL, Steve McGarrett. As he crossed the room his phone started playing "In the Navy," which didn't improve his mood at all.

"I'm not talking to you," he muttered, switching the phone to vibrate and dropping it onto the counter next to his keys before heading to the bathroom to grab his well-worn first aid kit. A couple of painkillers and an ice pack later the swelling had gone down, but Danny still found he was tense with anger at the days events. Yes, he understood that he was a cop, and as a cop sometimes you had to chase a suspect. But the point was--the point that Steve seemed to consistently forget--was that first you tried to avoid that situation. You approach the suspect calmly, quietly, not guns blazing and yelling and throwing surf boards, and sending everyone scattering so that they had to be chased down like roaches with a can of Raid. And on the beach too, where the loose sand and rocks and jumping over sunbathers just played havoc on the already damaged ligaments of his knee. And then when he finally caught up with his partner, it was to discover that he was being held at gunpoint by some strung out druggie, who incidentally had nothing to do with the case, but who had to be talked down before someone got shot. Danny liked talking. He didn't like hostage negotiations.

Danny sighed, dropping his head back on the sofa. He knew he was overreacting, of course; that was a William's specialty. It had been a rough week, a hard case with few leads (that was probably why McGarrett had rushed in as agressively as he did; everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress) and to make matters worse, despite the fact that it was Friday and his weekend to have Gracie, she had come down with the flu and wouldn't be able to spend the time with him.

Normally at this point, Danny might head over to Steve's for a couple of Longboards on the lanai, but he still wasn't in the mood to talk to his partner. His phone had buzzed a few more times since he got home, and he wandered back into the kitchen to make sure he hadn't missed any important calls, like Rachel saying that Grace had made a miraculous recovery and would be right over.

Four missed calls, all Steve. He hadn't left any messages, either, so it wasn't work-related.

"Tenacious bastard," Danny rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "What am I going to do with you?"

The car keys were still next to the phone, and he suddenly _wanted_ to head to Steve's. The anger was fraying at the edges, fading quickly into his usual state of emotions when it came to the SEAL, a state that was frustrating in its own way. He didn't just want to go to Steve's, he wanted the man himself. All of him. He wanted Steve. He wanted the quirk at the corners of his lips when Danny cracked a joke, the way Steve would peer up through his long lashes when he teasing back. He wanted the strong forearms, dusted with hair and often beaded with water, reaching to hand him a beer or pull him out of the chair. He wanted the slow build of sexual tension that piled around them whenever they were alone together. He also wanted that tension relieved. Oh god, did he ever.

But Danny was also a realist, and used to not getting what he wanted. The divorce had taught him that even the most mudane of dreams could be destroyed; he was not going to break his heart over the impossible. And Steve? Career military, woman-magnet, adorably oblivious Steve? Was the very definition of impossible.

He left the keys untouched, instead crouching down and opening the cabinet, reaching in to pull out the bottle of booze he knew was stashed in there. After a few belts of this stuff, he wouldn't be in any shape to drive. Hopefully, he wouldn't do anything stupid like drunk dialing, though. As he dragged the whiskey free he knocked over the box of stationary, cards and envelopes spilling out, a random splash of color on the dingy linoleum floor.

Mindful of his knee, he sat down fully and gathered a handful of cards. As he stuffed them back into the box, he though about sending Steve a thank you card for almost getting himself killed today. Or for the fresh pain in his knee, or for the hundreds of ways he made Danny's life harder. Like being unable to follow protocol, lacking in common sense, and being too damn sexy for anyone's peace of mind.

His hand hovered over one card. It was a watercolor of the ocean at sunset. He _could_ send Steve a card, thought Danny suddenly. Not a mean one, though, or even a cheesy, "I secretly love you, let's have sex now, please." Besides being both the most frustrating and most attractive man Danny had ever known, Steve was also probably the best friend he had ever had, and also a genuinely good person.

Cramming the whiskey and the rest of the cards back into the cabinet, Danny pulled a black pen out of his junk drawer, and after some moments of thought, began writing in careful block letters.

~*~*~

The envelope was a cheery yellow and sat propped up against the bottom of his desk lamp. Steve stared at it like it was a suspect in need of interrogation or a bomb about to explode.

"Hey, man, let's go," said Danny, sticking his head in Steve's office. "Chin has some info pulled up for us, we need to debrief." Then, seeing what had his partner's attention, he moved more fully into the room.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Steve. "It was just... in here. There's no name on it."

"If it was in here, it's probably for you. Just open it. Who knows, maybe you got invited to a birthday party or something."

"Your birthday was two months ago," replied Steve absently.

"Yes, thank you, I am aware of the day and month of my birth. I said _a_ birthday, not _my_ birthday. For which, I should remind you, I did not in fact have anything so childish as a party."

Now Steve looked up at him. "Danny," he began earnestly, "that's only because you didn't tell us. If we had known, we would have thown something together--"

"Yeah, I'm aware. All the more reason to keep it under wraps," joked the shorter man turning to leave the room. "Now open it or don't, but get your ass out here. Chin and Kono are waiting."

Steve grabbed the envelope and followed, tearing at the seam and pulling out the card.

"What do you have, there?" asked Kono curiously as Steve approched the table reading the card. Bemused, he flipped back to the picture on the front, then looked at the message printed inside.

"It says: 'YOUR DEDICATION TO BRINGING CRIMINALS TO JUSTICE IS ADMIRABLE. HAWAII IS LUCKY TO HAVE YOU.'"

The members of Five-0 looked at each other for a moment.

"That's... nice?" suggested Kono.

"It is nice," agreed Chin more firmly. He was looking at the card with a strange expression on his face. "It's nice to be appreciated."

Danny shot him a thoughful look, then turned back to Steve who was now checking out the back of the card for more clues.

"It doesn't seem threatening to you guys?" asked Steve.

Danny snorted. "If that's supposed to be a threat, they need to go back to crime school. Relax, babe. You have an admirer, is all."

Steve slid the card back into the envelope and they turned their attention to the monitors. Later, Danny noticed that Steve had displayed the card on top of the credenza in the office.

~*~*~

About a week and half later, Chin was next. His card had a picture of a motorcycle on it, and the message, in the same careful print was: TECHNOLOGY IS JUST A TOOL; YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HAS MASTERED IT. THE INFORMATION YOU DISCOVER IS CRUCIAL FOR SOLVING CASES.

Chin rolled his eyes and made a joke about fortune cookies, but stuck the card on his desk. More than once he was caught re-reading it.

Within the space of another week, Kono had received two. The first, an abstract swirl of black flowers on a white background, said: YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. YOU HAVE A NATURAL ABILITY FOR POLICE WORK THAT MOST VETERANS ON THE FORCE WISHED THEY HAD EVEN HALF OF.  
The second was in a different handwriting. The picture was of the ocean again, but this time it was a real photograph of a wave, dotted with surfers. _Your spin kick is a thing of beauty_.

When Danny saw the second card, he beamed almost as hard as Kono. He had planned on sending himself one, to keep the suspicion off of himself as fairy card-giver. It looked like he wouldn't have to. Sure enough, he had two cards of his own by the end of the week. A chubby little cherub pointing a bow and arrow at a puppy ( **You are the heart of this team** ) and a modern art looking series of colorful, interlocking squares (Your generosity of spirit is an inspiration).

After that, the cards came a little more slowly, but every few weeks one member of the team or another was bound to receive one. Even though what was happening was obvious, no one talked about the source of the cards or tried to find out which ones came from who. The feedback also became more specific to recent events ( **Your excellent interrogation skills as applied to Jimmy "The Fish" Halani led us to the meth lab in time** ) even as the pictures on them became less relatable. Somebody had to get the teddy bear tea party card eventually.

The team, already considered well-knit, became even closer. At least one day on most weekends was spent at one house or another, usually Steve's because he had the space and the beach, but they also held cookouts at Kono and Chin's homes, and one time Danny had everyone over for some home cooked Italian, small apartment be damned.

Danny, who had left a loud, boisterous and loving family behind when he moved to Hawaii, felt like he was getting some of that back when he was surrounded by his team. Good-natured ribbing and gentle nudges and arms slung around shoulders. Being close to the people you trusted. The people you loved.

The only downside, and it wasn't much of a downside, was that he now spent even more time with Steve. Which was torturous, sure, but the good kind of torture. For now, whenever Danny started to slip down the path of maybe and what if, he managed to stop himself before he got in too deep. He was a fully grown man who had received a fuzzy kitten card yesterday with the message: " **That blue tie really brings out your eyes** ," yes, but he also had self-control and willpower. He could fantasize about his boss a little in the privacy of his own home without assaulting him in public.

He could. He really could.

~*~*~

When they partied at Steve's, Danny was always last to leave. It was an unspoken rule or a tradition that would not be broken that they would end the evening with a final drink on the lanai, lounging in the deck chairs, sometimes in silence, sometimes not. Once or twice Steve had tried unsuccessfully to get Danny into the ocean for a little night swimming ("Exactly when have I expressed any desire to go swimming at all, let alone in the dark? You think that all the sharks and jellyfish are sleeping or something? No. The answer is always no.") and occasionally Danny used the opportunity to vent about Rachel, but in general the conversation was low-key and relaxing. Tonight they had both been quiet, listening to the waves and watching for stars to appears in the spaces between clouds. Danny was fighting not to fall asleep before he finished his beer; he still had to drive home.

"You're amazing."

Steve's voice was hushed but carried clearly.

"Thank you," said Danny magnanimously. "For what, exactly?"

"You know," said Steve. "The card thing."

Danny furrowed his brow. He was going to say something flippant like: "The first rule of the card thing is you don't talk about the card thing," but Steve's tone was serious, and he was still going, anyway.

"I know it was you who started it. That first card. I knew right away it was you."

"Steve--," Danny wasn't sure where this was going, but he was definitely starting to wonder how much his partner had been drinking tonight. Danny didn't want to engage in any kind of true confessions in the dark-- who knew what he might let slip?

"I knew," repeated Steve, "because it was so you. You were doing it anyway, all the time. Telling us what we were doing right as well as what we were doing wrong. We just-- I think we didn't hear it until it was written down."

"That's... I'm glad, man. It really-- it worked out for everyone," said Danny awkwardly. Compliments in cards were somehow easier, both to give and to receive. The proof was here, in this strained conversation.

He tossed back the last few swallows of beer, and stood.

"Listen, I'm going to head home," began Danny. Steve stood also, and was in Danny's space within a few steps.

"Wait," he said. He had his hand on Danny's upper arm, the sudden feeling of warmth through the material of his shirt making the shorter man swallow abruptly.

"I haven't given you a card," confessed Steve, looking straight at his partner. His hand tightened involuntarily.

Danny's smile was a little strained but his tone was even.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Steve," said Danny, stepping back to break the contact. It was distracting. "I am a detective. In fact, we are all," he gestured between the two of them, and then more expansively to include Chin and Kono, "part of an elite task force. Also, there are only four of us involved in this mutual admiration society, and none of us are idiots."

That was an idea for the next card, thought Danny absently. YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT. Steve, he decided, would not be the recipient.

"Don't tell me," he continued, "that you didn't figure out exactly who was giving out which cards."

"Not on purpose," muttered the SEAL.

"Yes, well, I also figured it out, as did, I am sure, Chin and Kono. So yeah, I know you haven't given me a card. It's not a big deal."

Danny really tried to mean that. Of course it hurt a little, at first, that Steve could give cards to the rest of the team but not to his partner. However, Danny was not without eyes and ears and other senses. He was a detective, as mentioned, and knew that Steve did appreciate him; it showed in their everyday interactions. If for whatever reason Steve couldn't find a way to write it down, so be it. Basically, unless the card did happen to say "I secretly love you, let's have sex now, please," then it wouldn't be telling Danny anything he didn't already know.

"It's kind of a big deal," said Steve. "I tried, a few times, but what I was writing wasn't what I wanted to say."

He closed the distance between them again, and this time put both of his hands on Danny's arms, just below the shoulder.

Danny's breath caught at the resumed contact. This was-- this was playing out like everything he wanted and nothing he had ever expected to happen. He prayed to the god of impossibility that he was not misreading the situation, that his long held desires were not clouding his perception.

Danny dropped his gaze down to his partner's lips and then back up to his eyes. Softly, carefully, he asked: "what did you want to say?"

The feel of Steve's lips on his sent a tingle along his spine that finally settled low in his groin. They brushed at each other gently at first, barely touching, then more forcefully, lips parting, tongues pushing and stroking, teeth clashing every now and again as the eagerness grew.

Steve pulled Danny flush against his body, one hand snaking down to his backside and bringing him in ever closer. Danny was hard already, almost painfully so, and the feel of his partner pressing against him showed he wasn't alone in this.

This was it, the impossible dream he had tucked away on a shelf. It was real, it was happening. It was--

"Steve," said Danny, pulling away from the taller man, who stilled instantly, head down and buried and Danny's shoulder.

Steve let out a shuddering breath and released his hold on his partner.

"Sorry," he started to say, head still down, "I--"

"Shut up," interrupted Danny, wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him close. "Don't even start."

He was better with words, but Steve had really layed it all on the line tonight, and Danny wasn't going to let him think he was alone in this.

"First of all, just so that there is no confusion on the subject, I want you, Steve," continued Danny. "A lot. Hell, I think I may even love you."

Steve looked up at this, visibly startled.

"However, the thing is, when have I ever indicated that I would want to have sex outside? On a beach, no less. Because, my friend, sex is definitely where we are headed. Don't think I didn't notice your hands making their way down my pants. And also? We are outside. We are making out _outside_ , Steven, in full view of your neighbors and who knows who else."

"It's late," Steve pointed out, a small smile starting to play on his lips. "The neighbors are sleeping."

His hand settled back down on Danny's hip.

"Sleeping, you say? Would that be in a bed, I wonder?"

Steve laughed, loud and joyful.

"Would you like to see my bed?" he asked, doing that eyelash thing that just happened to drive Danny crazy.

"Yes, Smooth Dog, I would. That is exactly what I am implying here."

Steve began to walk them back towards the house. Pinned together as they were, it made movement very awkward.

"You can let go, you know," said Danny. "I promise not to run. We might even get there a little faster."

"Nah, I think I'll keep you close," replied Steve. "And then I'll keep you forever."

"Oh, babe," sighed Danny, "I am so glad you didn't write me any cards. Because you? You have no way with words. Hallmark would fire you in an instant."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Steve as he eased them over the threshold and back towards the stairs.

"Yeah," replied Danny. "Fortunately, you have other-- a lot, in fact-- of redeeming values. So I will also keep you, against my better judgement."

There was less talking after that, as Steve displayed some of his redeeming values, and Danny put his mouth to better use.

~*~*~

The card giving tapered off after a while, but the habit of sharing positive feedback continued. Eventually Danny did send off one more card from the box. It was to his mother, and included a plane ticket.

  
Come visit. There's someone I want you to meet.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes legend, for those who care:
> 
> Danny - CAPS  
> Kono - bold-type  
> Steve - italic  
> Chin - regular-type


End file.
